Blaze of Glory

by M. Garzon

  Anne’s nasal voice floated down the aisle, and I quickly slipped Blaze’s halter on and led him outside to escape it. I climbed the fence and slid onto Blaze’s back. I wanted to canter down the trail and escape the pain for a while, but it was already getting dark. And chilly. I shivered slightly as we walked aimlessly around, and hid my hands under Blaze’s mane for extra warmth. I don’t know how long we perambulated before Dec came into the ring. We turned to face him.

  “Come inside, Téa,” he said gently. Oh, no, I thought angrily. He doesn’t get to start being understanding now.

  “You should have told me.”

  “I didn’t want to upset you before the Royal.”

  “Do you honestly think I could have had a worse time at the Royal?” I snapped. “Do you think it wasn’t torture, knowing that Zac and I could have won that class, that you could have sold him for way more money, and that you denied us all of that just to make a point?”

  “That’s enough,” he said sharply. “Now get off that horse. You know very well you shouldn’t be riding without a helmet, especially when he’s only wearing a halter.”

  You had to hand it to Dec, he was predictable — put him on the spot and he’d change the subject by getting mad.

  “Why? You know Blaze won’t do anything!” It was just more control, more orders for the sake of them, and I was not in the mood. I had meant to stay calm while we talked. So much for that strategy. Again. I took a deep breath and tried again more quietly.

  “I just think we need to talk about this, Dec.”

  “This is neither the time nor the place.”

  Everything had to be on his terms, as usual. Jaden and Seth emerged from the barn and the sight of Jaden was the only spark my simmering anger needed to explode.

  My eyes flickered to the paddock fence. It was about four feet high, easy enough for Blaze to manage, but I had never tried jumping him bareback and bridle-less before. Dec saw my intention and started toward me.

  “No, Téa!”

  “Come on, baby,” I whispered to Blaze, pushing him into a canter.

  For once I was happy that Blaze had always disregarded the paddock fence’s purpose of keeping him contained. He sailed over it easily. I heard gasps as I turned quickly to avoid the fence to the next paddock, right in front of us. Of course, the smart thing to do would have been to keep going down the trail as fast as possible and stay away until Dec had a chance to calm down. Several weeks, possibly. But I wasn’t exactly known for doing the smart thing; I rode over and jumped off Blaze to stand before him. Bet he’d talk to me now.

  Dec’s face was brick red. He glared at me, nostrils flaring. When he tensed I was surprised to see Jaden’s hand come down on his shoulder. I held Dec’s stare and was feeling the first ripple of doubt about the wisdom of my action when Seth gripped my arm and started towing me toward the barn.

  “I feel like I’m trapped in a really corny after-school special,” he grumbled as we stepped inside. “What was that about?”

  I shook my head, sighing. “I don’t know, Seth. But I’m sick of being treated like a child.”

  He laughed. “Oh, so that move was designed to demonstrate how mature you are? Keep it up, T, and you’ll be back in a playpen in no time.”

  I groomed Blaze in his stall, though he didn’t really need it. I wanted to draw as little attention to myself as possible. From the astonished looks on the boarders’ faces, I suspected some of them had seen my ill-considered feat. I was already feeling embarrassed at the drama I’d created. Seth was right, it had been a bonehead move.

  Before I was done, Jaden planted himself in the doorway.

  “Why do you push his buttons like that?” he asked, his voice heavy with disapproval. “You know where it will lead.”

  “Mind your own business,” I snapped.

  “Need I remind you, we’re family. You are my business.”

  I felt a rush of anger as I recalled the last time he’d said those words to me, at the racetrack. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for him. I shot him a look of loathing and turned my back on him.

  I heard him sigh.

  “Look, Téa, I’ve been in your position, or pretty close–”

  “I seriously doubt that,” I muttered.

  “...and there are better ways of dealing with it, more constructive ways.”

  I was done brushing. I stalked up and faced him in the doorway. He was blocking my way.

  “Well, excuse me for failing to emulate your standard of perfection. Now let me out.”

  His jaw tightened, and he matched my glare for a minute before turning and marching off. I heaved a sigh. I was glad to be rid of him, but not particularly looking forward to going into the house. It couldn’t be delayed indefinitely though, so after sweeping the aisle and tidying up in the tackroom I trudged morosely through the dark toward the warm yellow squares of light.

  There was no sign of Dec when I went inside, but I heard Jaden’s voice from the kitchen. Sheesh, I couldn’t even get away from him in my own house. I stopped in the doorway; Jaden and Seth were at the table eating some of Gran’s peach pie.

  “Hey, peewee, come join us.” Seth smiled.

  He was choosing to ignore my intense dislike of Jaden, obviously.

  “No, thanks. I’m going upstairs. I should probably talk to Dec first, though.” My attempt to keep the worry out of my voice was only partly successful.

  Jaden spoke up. “He’s with my mom in the office. I think they’ll be a while, actually.” The look he gave me was thoughtful.

  I was surprised. I had thought that Dec would be pacing the floor waiting for me.

  “Well, goodnight then.” I only looked at Seth.

  * * *

  I got a day of hard labor for my trouble. I’d been cleaning stalls for an hour when Seth ambled in, pitchfork in hand, and went into the stall across from mine. He started mucking out.

  “You know you can’t help me, Seth,” I reminded him.

  “Dec went out.”

  “Still, you shouldn’t risk it.”

  “Less talk, more work, half-pint.” He grinned at me.

  I stole glances at my tall blond brother as we worked, and wondered whether we could possibly be less alike. He’d always been a cute kid, but now his face was losing its childish roundness, revealing my mom’s good bone structure. They had shared more than looks; Seth and my mother had the same relaxed personality — as opposed to mine, which was anything but. They’d been very close, and he had been devastated by her death. Since we lost her, Seth had gone from laid-back to almost lackadaisical, as though refusing to take anything seriously could prevent him from ever being hurt that much again.

  Jaden arrived shortly afterward, followed by Teri, who kept me company while I worked.

  “What are you doing your assignment on?” she asked.

  “The economics of slavery,” I said.

  “Like in the old days?”

  “Nope, modern-day slavery. I stumbled across it by accident. Can you believe there are more slaves in the world today than at any other time in history?”

  “Hold on,” Jaden broke in. “You can’t make those kinds of sweeping claims without substantiating them.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve researched the subject,” I said scathingly. “I’ve got references to back it up.”

  “Well, would you mind sharing your references? If they’re valid, I could use them for a project I’m working on.” He sounded doubtful that they would measure up.

  “Okay, lawyer boy,” I told him. My tone wasn’t friendly. “Leave me your email and I’ll send it.”

  That night I went into the living room to use the old computer Seth and I shared, and found a sticky note with Jaden’s email address stuck to the monitor. I ignored it for about a week, my annoyance with him warring with my desire to prove myself, before finally relenting and sending him the documents. I got an email from him the next day.

  Subject: Research Materials
>
  From: “Jaden Foster”

  To: “Téa”

  Thanks... where did you get this material? I have access to an enormous university library, not to mention the law school resources, and I couldn’t find half this info. I have to confess I’m impressed.

  Subject: what can i tell you

  From: “Téa”

  To: “Jaden Foster”

  learn to surf, dude

  Subject: I don’t think so

  From: “Jaden Foster”

  To: “Téa”

  There’s no way that you got this material from the Internet. Not all of it, anyway. What you sent me is referenced, somewhat arcane, and recent. Plus, I couldn’t find it ☺

  Subject: well, duh

  From: “Téa”

  To: “Jaden Foster”

  ok, so i wasn’t going to send you random interweb flotsam. that would have been a waste of time. mine, especially.

  Subject: Not bad

  From: “Jaden Foster”

  To: “Téa”

  No offense, but I’m impressed that you know the difference. A lot of kids your age don’t. In fact, a lot of the people in law school still haven’t learned.

  Subject: excuse me?

  From: “Téa”

  To: “Jaden Foster”

  precisely how should your last statement be taken for it NOT to be offensive?

  Subject: My compliments

  From: “Jaden Foster”

  To: “Téa”

  You know, you write extremely well for seventeen.

  Subject: nice diversion

  From: “Téa”

  To: “Jaden Foster”

  that should read: “You write extremely well for a seventeen-year-old.” and btw, i suspect that my writing would measure up even for an aged twenty-two-year-old such as yourself. but don’t change the subject.

  Subject: Sorry

  From: “Jaden Foster”

  To: “Téa”

  You’re right, that statement was offensive. Please accept my abject apologies. And thank you for the documents. Which you acquired...?

  Subject: fine, then

  From: “Téa”

  To: “Jaden Foster”

  all right. i’ll tell you, if only to stop you from harassing me virtually. i know someone at “imagine canada”. she provides me with articles, and contact names, and generally gives me the scoop on whatever I need. happy now?

  Subject: Yes

  From: “Jaden Foster”

  To: “Téa”

  Extremely.

  December brought freezing weather to southwestern Ontario. I shivered while teaching lessons, while turning out horses, and while feeding. I was in the arena setting up some jumps for my advanced students one afternoon when Marcus, one of our boarders, marched in.

  “Can I give you the board money? There’s no answer at the house,” he said abruptly.

  “Um, sure, I guess,” I said absently. The boarders were all supposed to pay Dec directly but Marcus was a bit whiny, so I placated him. He handed me a wad of bills and I stuffed them into my pocket before continuing to shiver my way around the arena.

  As I headed to the house before dinner I remembered the board money and put my hand in my pocket — and found nothing. Frantically I searched all my pockets; I couldn’t find a single bill. I retraced my steps to the barn, the tackroom, and the arena. Still nothing. My heart was beating fast now. A month’s board, in cash, was a lot of money to lose.

  I trudged inside. Seth was in the living room and I picked his sweatshirt up off the couch and threw it at him. Dec was almost obsessively neat. He cleaned up a lot himself, but he expected us to keep the house tidy too. I had managed to train myself, with some effort, to be relatively orderly, but unfortunately Seth was one of those people who littered a trail of cast-offs everywhere he went. You could practically find him by following the path of keys, school stuff, and clothes he discarded. So, in order to keep the peace, I ended up picking up after him quite a bit. I didn’t want Dec upset by anything else before I told him I’d lost the board money.

  “What’s up, Sis?”

  Seth shrugged after I’d told him. “Well, it was an accident.”

  “What was an accident?” Dec’s voice came from behind me.

  I explained what had happened, fidgeting. Dec took a deep breath before walking over and sinking onto the couch. He pulled me down next to him.

  “You know this is why the boarders are supposed to pay me directly, right?” Dec reminded me.

  “Yes, I know,” I said quietly. “It’s just that it was Marcus, and you know how he gets... but I should have insisted, I guess.” I was looking at my knees.

  “Well, these things happen.”

  I looked up. There was barely a trace of irritation in his features.

  “You know, Dec, I still have the money I made at the track,” I admitted. I’d been surprised that he hadn’t confiscated it at the time; I wondered if he’d forgotten. “I’ll give it to you to replace the board money.”

  “No, you keep it. You and Seth will need it once you buy your car.” His tone was gentle, and I felt a swell of confusing emotions rising up inside me.

  “Dec... I never told you, but I really am sorry about the whole racetrack thing.” I apologized without looking at him.

  I heard him sigh.

  “So am I,” he said in a low voice. Wait, had he just said what I thought he did? That was definitely a first. “You know, for the record, I would have given you the money for the Royal,” he added, “But you didn’t ask me.”

  I nodded, trying not to feel bitter as I absorbed this news. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask. I knew that money was tight, and Seth and I tried to pull our own weight as much as we could. We knew that Dec had loved our mother, but he married her and four years later, she died. And left him with two fourteen-year-olds that we weren’t sure he had bargained for.

  * * *

  We went to my cousin Stacey’s on Christmas Eve. They lived in a big house in Thornhill, north of Toronto. Seth was sulky on the drive because he wanted to go to his girlfriend’s, they’d been together for six weeks, a record for Seth. Although he had a lot of girlfriends, you couldn’t call Seth a womanizer. He genuinely liked all the girls he dated, and he never meant to hurt their feelings. He rarely stayed interested long, but while it lasted, he was his usual sweet, funny self; that, combined with his good looks and popularity, ensured him a steady lineup of girls. It was pretty amusing to watch.

  Dec had asked us to be on our best behavior because my Uncle Peter, Jaden’s father, would be in attendance. We hadn’t seen him in five years — in fact, we barely remembered him, and we were curious to see what he’d be like. Dec had had some sort of falling out with his older brother, but we weren’t privy to the details.

  Aunt Paloma and Jaden arrived shortly after us. Jaden promptly strolled over and plunked himself down on the couch next to me, but I didn’t bristle this time. After our email exchange I had given up my grudge.

  “Hey, fosterPolo,” I greeted him.

  He responded with a teasing smile. “So, My Little Pony, seriously?”

  “Hey, you recognized the name, that’s almost worse than my using it, seeing as how you’re a boy and all,” I taunted.

  “Hmm, you may have a point. Why the 42?”

  I shrugged. “Because it’s the answer, you know-”

  “To life, the universe, and everything,” Jaden finished, grinning. “How does someone your age end up readi
ng offbeat sci-fi from the eighties?”

  “The same way you did, I guess. I read a lot. Anyway, dude, you’re only five years older than I am.”

  “True,” he said thoughtfully. “I guess it’s just your attitude that makes it seem like you’re ten.”

  Without hesitation, I tossed a punch toward his shoulder, but his hand caught my fist instead.

  “Ow,” he said in a perfectly flat voice. His smile was mocking. “You have sharp little fists, but you’re not very fast.”

  “What?” I was indignant. Physically, there were not many things I could claim — I wasn’t tall, or strong, or beautiful — but I was speedy. That much I knew.

  He was still looking at me, though he had released my hand. Without breaking eye contact, I surreptitiously threw another punch. Again, my fist smacked into his palm. His amber-flecked eyes hadn’t left mine.

  “Sneaky.” His smile grew even more mocking.

  “So it’s come to blows this time, has it?” Dec asked in amusement. “It’s getting worse, Paloma,” he called over his shoulder to my aunt, who appeared in the doorway. “Now our kids can’t even make it till dinner without fighting.”

  Jaden’s mom shook her head at us in mock disapproval, but she smiled at the sight of us side by side.

  “Téa, this is the first time in four years that my son is home for Christmas. Please, be nice to him.”

  I sat across from Uncle Peter during the meal. He was taller and less stocky than Dec, his hair a lighter brown, but they could easily be marked as brothers. Jaden took after his mother more, I decided, except for the height.

  Dinner was interesting. Uncle Peter was some sort of high-powered executive, and he was very charming, in a superficial kind of way. Huge platters were making their way around the table, and I piled my plate with potatoes, greens beans with almond slivers, some mushrooms in pastry, and glazed carrots. Uncle Peter noticed my choices.

  “What, no meat?” he asked. There was both turkey and ham on the table.